Remember Tuesday Morning (26 page)

So why couldn’t he cry out to God even here, minutes before his death? His father had wanted Alex to be a man of faith more than anything else, but all these years he’d refused to think about that. Alex clenched his fists and tried to focus above the roar of the inferno around him. He could almost hear his dad calling to him, telling him to reach out to God — before it was too late.

Alex crouched down beneath the swirling fog of smoke and for a few seconds — like the suspect — he thought about running. But there was nowhere to go. Then, without giving the act another thought, he dropped to his knees. The small gravel and rocks dug into his knees through his jeans, but he didn’t care.

“God!” The cry was desperate as it rose above the sound of the firestorm. “I’m sorry!” He shouted the words, but the fire and wind were so loud even he could barely hear them. He had blamed God and in the process he’d lost the life his father had wanted for him. He’d shut out everyone who loved him, and he’d tried to be God, the sort of Almighty he thought God should be. But he could see it all now, the fact that Clay was right. With Christ’s strength, the only evil that could ever be conquered was the evil within him.

He lifted his hands and face to the fiery sky. “Help me, God! I’m not ready to die! Please … forgive me.”

A release exploded in his heart and soul, and like a scene from long ago he recognized the feelings, because they were the ones that had defined him before 9/11. Feelings of love and hope and longing, a desire for the kind of life his parents had shared. A favorite Bible verse from long ago came rushing back —
For I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength.
He’d shared it with Holly one day when the world was his and summer lasted all year long. And suddenly in the midst of the gravest danger he’d ever faced, it was all there again, flooding over him.
Thank You, God … I feel You here with me.

He could do this, because with every breath Christ was giving him a strength he hadn’t known these past seven years. Alex remembered something his father had told him. That there was a party in heaven whenever one sinner turned back to God. Alex smiled despite the terror around him.
Let my dad be part of the celebration, God … I see it so clearly. Thank You …

He could almost hear the band.

But even as he prayed, the fire moved in closer, sucking the air from the small pocket and making it hard to breathe. Alex wasn’t afraid, wasn’t panicked anymore. He didn’t want to die, but there was no way out. The end could be any moment now, the next gust of wind and the raging inferno would close in on top of them. Alex stayed on his knees and thought again of Bo and Holly and his mom. At least he’d had the chance to tell his mother he was sorry. The heat of the flames was suffocating now, and Alex had a final thought — something good would come from him dying this way.

In a matter of minutes, he would see his dad again.

T
WENTY
-E
IGHT

J
amie was listening to radio updates of the fire as Eric drove her to the hospital. It was still dark outside, and the smoke was thick across the freeway, the orange glow eerie in the western sky, especially since the sun was still hours from rising. Jamie replayed the events of the last half hour. She’d been awake, sitting up in bed when Joe made the initial update. He told her what had happened and how violent the guys from the REA had been. And he told her about Clay.

“You need to get to the hospital, Jamie. As soon as you can.”

Jamie’s first call was to Eric and Laura, and they had come immediately. Laura was at her house now with the still-sleeping CJ and Sierra, and Eric drove her to the hospital. After Joe’s call, Jamie had heard from the doctor. Clay was in critical condition, and she should hurry. But with all the terrible news, Jamie clung to one single hope, something else the doctor had told her.

They expected Clay to pull through.

That alone kept her sane as they sped along the Ventura Freeway to the Los Robles Medical Center; it was the only reason she could listen to the radio for updates. The fire was raging out of control, ripping through the hillsides at incredible speeds and spreading in all directions. The most recent news stated that an entire neighborhood at the base of the mountain had been evacuated. In addition, firefighters were evacuating other neighborhoods — well in advance of the blaze reaching them.

The news reporter kept stating what anyone listening already knew. That the fire was set by members of the REA, and that one of them had been shot and killed by a K9 deputy. The reports didn’t say the name of the officer, but Jamie already knew it was Alex. What other K9 officer would’ve been at the scene of the fire, working to apprehend the suspects?

The number of homes that could burn in the process might reach into the thousands, according to officials. Already — because of the shifting winds and the amount of dry brush in the Las Virgenes hills, the fire had the potential to be one of the area’s worst ever — and one of the most violent. The suspects had shot the security guard, then Clay, and finally Bo. Joe had told Jamie all the details he knew. The security guard was in surgery, but he was going to be okay. No one was sure about Bo.

“This just in regarding the deadly fire burning out of control in the Las Virgenes Canyon area,” the announcer interrupted Jamie’s thoughts. “A spokesperson for the sheriff’s department says that at this very moment they have a K9 officer and a suspect trapped on a fire road somewhere on the mountain.” Her voice took on a grave tone. “Officials are doing everything they can to make a rescue, but the flames are too intense and the terrain too rugged for emergency vehicles. We’ll keep you posted as we receive developments on this tragic story.”

“Dear God … no, please.” Jamie whispered the desperate words. “Eric, we need to pray.”

Eric kept his eyes on the road, but he reached out and took her hand. “God … we need a miracle. We think Alex is trapped, but you know right where he is.” Eric’s voice was tense, and his mouth sounded dry. “Be with him, please … clear the fire in a way that only you can do.”

After the prayer, Jamie wanted to call someone — Joe or another of the SWAT guys, because like before she knew that the officer trapped on the hillside had to be Alex. He must’ve gone back into the flames after the suspect, and now …
God, he has so much to live for … give him a miracle. Put up a hedge of protection around him and stop the flames from reaching him. Get him out, God … please.

She pictured Alex trapped in the middle of a firestorm, and the image made her sick to her stomach. She couldn’t think about it, not now when she was so worried about Clay. Alex would be okay … he had to be okay. She’d be at the hospital soon, a few minutes at the most. She was anxious to be with Clay, to touch him and see for herself that he was going to be okay.

Outside her car, the wind felt worse than before, and all along the freeway they were passed by fire trucks and emergency vehicles. A shudder ran through her arms. This moment felt eerily like seven years ago when she raced to a New York hospital in search of Jake. Only that time, the person fighting for life in the hospital bed hadn’t been Jake — but Eric Michaels. This was different, everything about it. They’d already been through so much. She couldn’t imagine losing Clay now, not Clay or Alex. Eric turned into the hospital parking lot, and she had to blink so she could see the building clearly, that it was Los Robles Medical Center and not the hospital in New York City.
It’s not the same … this is a different day, God, help me hold onto the truth. This isn’t 9/11.

Daughter, breathe … my peace I give to you … I don’t give as the world gives …

Eric parked the car, jumped out, and hurried to her side. He helped her to her feet and led her across the parking lot. The whole time she kept thinking about the gentle response to her prayer, the words about peace. God’s peace. That was exactly what she needed right now. Whatever happened today, no one could take that away from her. As she walked, she willed herself to believe that very soon God would grant a miracle for her and for Clay.

And especially for Alex.

The flames were right on top of them now, and Alex wondered if they might die from the heat before the fire reached them. He’d radioed down to the command station, but it hadn’t done any good. The inferno was too deep and wide, too all-consuming for any of the firefighters to reach him. His only hope was a helicopter, and so far he hadn’t seen a single drop of fire retardant. That wasn’t surprising, really. The helicopters were already in use, so after his first call it could’ve taken fifteen minutes or more to get a drop overhead.

He was still on his knees, his face still raised to the burning sky. He’d lost out on seven years of talking to God, doing the thing his father had taught him to do. Seven years of being angry at the God who had created him and given him his family — even if that wonderful life hadn’t lasted as long as Alex wanted. This was only the bus stop, right? Wasn’t that what his father used to say? The great and joyous life everlasting was on the other side. His father had taught him that, and now it was what Alex once more believed. What he had always believed, even while he let his pain and sorrow cloud out the truth. Seven years were gone, but every second he had left in this life, he would spend talking to God.

Thank You, Lord … because I feel You here in this inferno. I feel Your peace and Your forgiveness, Your salvation and certainty. I never should’ve blamed You, God …
He opened his eyes, and the fire was almost close enough to touch. The suspect in the back was quiet now, uttering only an occasional whimper, too terrified to speak.

Alex could die and be with his dad and his Heavenly Father, now that he had made his peace with God. He would finish well, far better than he would’ve if this had been a sudden accident or a bullet to his head, the bullet Bo took. But he had one regret, one area where he had failed. And once he was dead he would never have the chance to make it up again.

His regret was Holly.

As her sweet face filled his heart and soul, he used his final breaths to ask God one more time: “Please, Lord …” he yelled into the roaring fire, “Please save us! Let me have another chance. I have so much time to make up for, God … please!”

The noise around him grew louder, as if a speeding freight train was bearing down on them, about to crush them.
My son … I have loved you with an everlasting love … I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you.
The words were in the wind, in the fire, as clearly as if God had stepped down into this terrible moment and spoken them directly to Alex.

He gripped the edge of his truck and lifted himself off his knees so he could see better. A rushing sound added to the noise, and a strange sensation came over Alex, like the atmosphere itself was changing. Something was happening, something with the wind. Around the truck the burning embers swirled and danced and gusted in every direction, and then suddenly, strangely, the fire blew hard to the west and lifted. Alex brought his fist to his mouth.
God, it can’t be … it isn’t possible …

Ahead of them, the fire road was suddenly and instantly clear again, the blaze raising several stories high on the right side, but reduced to almost nothing on the left. Hope shot straight through him, and Alex didn’t hesitate. This was a miracle, nothing less. God had created a path, and this time he was going to take it. He hurled himself behind the wheel and started the engine.

“Go … drive!” The guy in the backseat must’ve seen the hole in the flames.

Alex didn’t respond. The miracle in front of them was a gift from God, and if the Lord had opened the hole, He would keep it open long enough for them to get down the mountain. Alex drove with a single-mindedness and purpose that he hadn’t known since before September 11. God had set him free. Not just from the fire, but from himself — and both kinds of freedom could only have come from the Lord.

It took several minutes to get to the bottom of the hill, and as he did he grabbed his radio again. “We made it through. Have SWAT waiting.”

For the first time since the fire lifted, the arsonist fell silent, probably with the realization that for him, things had only just started heating up. The charges that would be filed against him would put him away forever, Alex was pretty sure. He reached the bottom just as Joe stepped out of his squad car.

Alex got the suspect out of his truck as fast as he could and handed him over to Joe. “I already read him his rights, and I’ll write my report after I check on Bo.” He didn’t want to spend another minute being angry or full of rage. The system would take care of Owl and his buddy. Alex had more important matters at hand, desperate life or death matters. He waited until Joe had the suspect cuffed in the backseat of his car, then Alex took hold of his friend’s arm. “How’s Clay?”

“He’s in surgery, but it looks good.” Joe hesitated, squinting against the blowing wind and smoke. “What happened up there, Brady? You look different.”

Alex laughed just once, the sort of laugh that told his friend there wasn’t enough time to explain it all right now. “I’m still trying to believe it.” He kept his eyes on Joe but started walking back to his truck. “I shouldn’t be here; let’s just say that.” He climbed into his truck and shut the door. Through the open window he yelled once more to Joe as he peeled off toward the main road. “I’ve gotta go see my dog.”

As he drove, he kept both his windows down. The night wind was smoky and warm, but it was fresher than anything he’d been breathing up on the mountain. He let the wind dust off the grit and ashes that covered his face and tried to get his mind around what had just happened. He should be dead, in heaven with his father. But God had heard his cry and granted him the precious gift he’d begged for.

More time.

It was just after four in the morning, still dark outside. He would get to the vet hospital and see how Bo was doing, and sometime before sunup he would tell Holly everything he should’ve told her years ago. She had probably moved on by now, and there was nothing he could do about that. But she needed to know what had happened on the hill, how he’d come face-to-face with the same kind of terrorist-set inferno that had killed his father, and in that horrifying moment the impossible had happened.

He’d found his faith in God again.

A wholeness filled his soul, and Alex felt the same freedom he’d experienced in the midst of the fire. He didn’t need to be so driven any longer. He could capture the bad guys, because that was his job, and it was one he would always enjoy. But he couldn’t capture the evil around him. It was a pervasive part of life, and would be that way until Jesus returned. The only evil he could address — like Clay had told him — was the evil within himself.

Something he planned to spend the next few hours working on.